


A fit of anger

by Alexistomalex



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anger, Canon Compliant, Gen, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5011720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexistomalex/pseuds/Alexistomalex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Carolina infiltrated Locus' men and saved the Reds and Blues, Felix throws a fit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A fit of anger

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really small thing I made to try to combat the white page, it's just meant to explore Felix a bit, I might do more to practice, tell me if you're interested in anything. It's not meant to be shippy, but it could be, I don't know yet. Please leave your impressions! It'd help a hell of a lot! I'm open to constructive criticism, but please be gentle, I am but a fragile thing :)

Felix left his troops behind and stormed into the compound’s control room. He ripped his helmet off his head and threw it angrily against the giant screen on the wall, where it hit one of the dead federation soldiers and rolled back to the entrance. Locus stopped it with his foot.  
  
Visibly his partner was upset, but he made no motion to stop him nor told him to can it. He just watched, silent and still, as Felix trashed everything he could find in the room.  
The mercenary was obviously struggling – and failing spectacularly – to stay calm. He kept running his gauntleted hand through his hair, moaning, wanting to scream but also wanting not to lose his shit completely. Still, Locus stayed silent.  
  
Felix constantly walked into dead soldiers’ bodies, kicking them when he had a chance, stomping on them if kicking meant losing his balance. Locus thought it rather distasteful, but it seemed to be cathartic to Felix, even if only a little.  
  
After precisely two minutes of this disaster, Locus said, calmly but firmly: ‘Felix. Get a grip.’  
  
His partner, in reaction, kicked the head of a particularly badly burned soldier repeatedly and shouted: ‘WHAT.’ He kicked again. ‘THE.’ And again. ‘FUCK.’ In a smooth movement, he took his knife out and violently threw it where he threw his helmet earlier. It hit the corner of the screen in a clang and fell to the floor.

Felix gave in and doubled over in a scream of rage.  
  
‘You are making a show of yourself’, said Locus. ‘Let’s call command and intercept them while the damage isn’t done.’ His foot left Felix’s helmet and he made a few steps inside the room. ‘You can scream afterwards. When there isn’t work to do. And when I’m not around to hear you.’  
  
Felix walked to his knife and picked it up ‘You don’t understand.’ He was panting. Rarely did he let himself lose control in front of people, but Locus had seen Felix’s fits of anger before. He did not answer. His partner continued anyway. ‘I- I- You don’t understand. FUCK. Locus. Locus, these… these CHILDREN, Locus, they haven’t won, they can’t win, do you understand? Fuck, I- Fuck! Look!’ They were facing each other now, and Felix had spread his arms wide, still holding the knife in his right hand. He looked positively murderous. Locus sighed. ‘They are NOTHING, Locus, they couldn’t even command small groups of incompetents- they couldn’t even command A SINGLE SOLDIER EACH, LOCUS-’  
  
He brought his arms back to himself and stared into space for a second, catching his breath before throwing the knife at the soldier again, this time voluntarily, and shattering the glass of the Fed’s visor. He walked back to pick it up. ‘This is all on that- on that GIRL, Locus- that BITCH, I can’t- she wasn’t supposed to be there, why WAS she there?’ He threw the knife again. ‘Huh? How did this- this numbnut freelancer ever make it in OUR ranks? Huh?? Who fucked up? She wasn’t even GOOD, she w-’  
  
‘Why did you let her beat you then?’ Locus interrupted.  
  
For a second Felix stared at the dead soldier with the broken visor like he’d woken up and started shouting insanities. The soldier would have found it unsettling. Luckily, he was dead. Locus, him, was used to it.  
  
Felix slowly walked up to the soldier and dislodged his knife. He examined it absently for a second, then turned around to look at Locus. _Through_ Locus. He looked both angry and quite distressed. ‘She didn’t’, he articulated.  
  
Locus could hear the faint squeak in his partner’s voice. He shook his head and stepped forward again ‘Let’s call command.’  
  
‘She didn- Are you even listening to me?’ asked Felix. But Locus didn’t answer. Instead he went to the screen, shuffled around the controls and found a port in which he plugged his communication device.  
  
‘She didn’t beat _me_.’ Felix threw the knife at the Fed again. ‘She infiltrated _our_ ranks, she didn’t beat _me_ , Locus.’ He worked the knife out of the helmet, and like on cue the screen lit up with the familiar text and computerized voice of their employer.  
  
Through the entire conversation, while Locus explained exactly what had happened, Felix threw the knife at the dead soldier. Then Locus mentioned the freelancer, and Felix reacted again, as if he hadn’t had his fit of anger already. He left his knife in the soldier’s helmet and, addressing his partner directly, he said: ‘Oh! Oooh, it was wonderful! Duped by a freelancer posing as one of our own men, seriously, Locus, can you TASTE the irony in that?  
  
‘If you had kept your ego under control they would be dead by now’, answered Locus. He had left Felix their traditional two minutes for him to calm down, and even more. This was starting to be rather irritating.  
  
‘Okay, no, we don't have the facts- to prove that, alright? So let's not, you know, start throwing blame around, or anything, okay? Please. Thank you. You're welcome.’  
Locus briefly considered what his life could have been had he not had to work with Felix.

It seemed, oddly, both a lot better and a lot worse.

He grit his teeth.  
  
‘Stop. Talking.’  
  



End file.
